Cecile
by Adamantwrites
Summary: Adam slowly falls in love with an unusual young woman but both Ben and her parents have reservations.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. All original characters and plots are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

_After the Greeting_

Ben noticed that his oldest son was restless; he was also aware that Adam wanted to talk but was waiting until his thoughts were orderly and he had formed the words in which to couch them. The book Adam had been reading sat on his lap, two bent fingers marking his place while he stared into the fire and held the book. It was late and both Hoss and Joe had turned in for the night and Ben felt the day's weariness overtaking him.

Ben placed his pipe in the ashtray on the pipe rack beside his chair and stretched. "I think I'll turn in now-get the lights, will you, Adam?"

"Pa, can you wait just a minute? I need to ask you about something-your opinion." Adam looked up at his father expectantly.

"My opinion?" Ben raised his eyebrows.

Adam gave his lopsided smile. "Yes. And your advice."

Ben settled back down in his chair, sinking into its comforting embrace and crossed his legs at the knees and said, "I'm listening."

"Well, this afternoon when I was in town, I was passing by Sutton's dress shop and saw Cecile Turpin through the window; she was on a dais getting fitted for some dress it seemed, and I smiled at her when I caught her eye. Well, Cecile, being who she is, came flying out of the shop and said how glad she was to see me. Pa, you know how Cecile is, how she's just so…she's not like anyone I've ever met. She's just so…pure and just shines. I couldn't help but smile at the thought that she…that Cecile, was glad to see me. I just…ah, Pa, I wanted to kiss her. Here she stood pins sticking out of this dress she was wearing and looking like an angel who had landed on earth by mistake and then her mother came tearing out of the shop and ordered Cecile inside-to get away from me."

"To get away from you?" Ben thought that was unusual language, the type a parent uses when they see their child edging toward danger and can't warn them away quickly enough.

"Yes. Her words were, 'Cecile, get away from Adam Cartwright. What will people think if they see you half-dressed out here?' Pa, she wasn't half-dressed-I don't even know why her mother said that. Anyway, I tried to say something to Mrs. Turpin, to explain that Cecile was just saying hello but she grabbed Cecile by the arm and practically threw her back inside the shop. You know what a big woman she is and how slender Cecile is. Well, I looked again in the window only to see Mrs. Turpin slap her. Cecile put her hand over the spot on her face and then she saw me outside the window and she was…humiliated."

"Well," Ben said, "that is a little unusual-I mean for her mother to react that way, but maybe it's the age difference. Maybe Mrs. Turpin thinks that Cecile is interested in you in a romantic way and she doesn't approve. There is quite a few years' difference between you two, you know, and if I were the father of a daughter, I might be just as protective. And Adam, all families are different-we don't know what goes on in their house and we don't really know Cecile. She's an odd girl and then having been sent away to school…don't put too much into it, Adam."

"Sure," Adam said in that understated, clipped manner he had that meant he disagreed vehemently with what a person said. "So that's all you think it is-the years' difference."

"Adam," Ben said, "If the Turpins don't want Cecile to see you, it's possible there's someone else they want her to perhaps marry or, well, it could be anything."

"Pa, all Cecile did was say hello to me; we weren't getting involved. What's this about marrying someone?" Adam needed to defend Cecile. Why was his father defending her mother's actions? "She didn't deserve to be slapped." Adam remembered Mrs. Turpin's face, how it was twisted with anger and something else, something akin to fear.

"No, Adam, that's not all she did. Cecile put everything else aside, abandoned everything to go to you. That's not just saying, 'hello'. Whether Cecile deserved to be slapped isn't for you to judge. If you want my advice, be cordial to Cecile but don't encourage her attentions by giving her yours. She's not right for you anyway being as young as she is. What is she? Nineteen?"

"I believe so," Adam said quietly. He looked away from his father and stared back into the fire.

"Only nineteen," Ben repeated thoughtfully. Ben remembered how lush and delectable a girl can be at nineteen and he felt himself flush. He cleared his throat and continued. "I have to admit she's a pretty one." Ben stood up again. "But more than likely, it's basically a schoolgirl crush Cecile has on you. Just let things ride-she'll get over it soon enough. And then she won't embarrass you by running after you with her clothes falling off of her."

"I wasn't embarrassed," Adam said bluntly. "Actually, I was flattered."

Ben felt uneasy as he looked at Adam's face. He had seen that look on his son's face before, that look of steely determination. "Adam, please, just leave Cecile Turpin alone. They're an odd family, never really being part of the community. It's in Cecile's best interest as well if you leave her alone."

"Yeah," Adam said. "I suppose so."

But Ben knew that he hadn't convinced Adam because he hadn't convinced himself. Cecile was far too desirable for Adam to forget. And Ben knew what Adam was seeing as he looked into the fire-Cecile's face and the joy she had shown upon seeing him. And Ben also knew that Adam would draw up every subtle expression, every nuance on Cecile's face again and again and every word of the conversation trying to analyze what had happened and to find the key to the mystery of what had occurred that afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

_Adam and Cecile_

The Turpins had always kept to themselves but Mr. Turpin, the bank manager, was well known to all the ranchers and townspeople; it helped to stay on his good side when things were bad as it was he who granted loans and approved collateral. And as all the important denizens of Virginia City did, they attended church regularly with their only child, Cecile, who was a year younger than Joe Cartwright. Adam remembered what a strangely beautiful child Cecile had been but she was a child and of no interest to him. Adam, at eighteen was concerned with his own life; he was leaving for college and was sparking the Brandywine girl, Catherine. He promised Catherine that even when he was away at college, he would love only her and at the time he made the promise, he meant to keep it. But the temptation of the Boston girls who flirted with the young men matriculating at the university was too much for Adam and so his letters to Catherine were stretched further and further apart until he stopped writing her all together. Adam did feel guilt about breaking his promise but there was always another girl's pretty smile and a plump bosom to console him.

And when at twenty-two, Adam returned home after graduation and his internship in Boston, he would see the Turpins at church every week and although they were of no particular interest to Adam, once his father asked him to go out to their place at the edge of town and to help Mr. Turpin with some additions to their house. Ben had bragged to Mr. Turpin that Adam now had his degree in architecture and was redesigning their house to add a second floor and to remove the walls downstairs that had separated the large area into small bedrooms to create one large living area. Adam had such vision, Ben had bragged, and had come back from college with definite knowledge instead of just guesswork as most people had when they built their homes-the Ponderosa was going to be one of a kind with a large staircase that would lead to the six upstairs bedrooms, keeping one of the bedrooms downstairs. And, Ben had added proudly, Adam had plans for a washhouse and later, to add an indoor privy.

Mr. Turpin had then asked if Adam would come out to look at his house and see if he could help redesign the kitchen; their cook often complained about the smallness of it and how very hot and uncomfortable it became. Perhaps Adam could help arrive at a solution and Mr. Turpin had added, he would be most glad to pay Adam as he would pay any professional architect.

Ben had declined payment (which Adam later told him was overstepping which made Ben stammer because he knew that Adam was right) and so Adam had ridden out to look at the house one Saturday afternoon. And as he had been in the kitchen, listening to the cook's complaints and what she would like to see done, Cecile, who was nine, had come in and stood silently watching Adam and Mrs. Hanley, the cook, talk while Mr. Turpin smiled; he was thinking that in the near future he would employ Adam's talents to a greater degree and his home would soon be as grand as Ben's. Mr. Turpin was a proud man-guilty of hubris.

"Hello, Cecile," Adam had said when he saw her watching them with her large golden eyes. That was the color Adam decided they were-golden-not brown, not green but golden. Her eyes haunted him the rest of the day, not just because of their color but became of the expression in them; Cecile had looked at him with awe as if he were some god.

But before Cecile could respond, Mr. Turpin took her by her upper arm and pulled her out of the kitchen, only her toes touching the floor as she kept up with the powerful man. And Adam ignored the chattering of the cook to listen to Mr. Turpin tell his wife that she was supposed to keep Cecile out of the kitchen. "You know how excitable she is-any change…," he had said but not finishing the sentence.

And years went by and Adam became involved with various young women and lived a full life for one as young as he. And one day, the Turpins didn't attend church and then the next week, they attended without Cecile who had been sent away to school. At thirteen, they said, they wanted more for her than the school in Virginia City could offer but most of the people of the town saw it as a gross insult; those Turpins thought they were too good for Virginia City with their grand house and Mr. Turpin's powerful job. But Joe had always said how smart Cecile was, how she was reading books all the time and barely had anything to do with the other children in school. Adam had heard the grumbling at the school board meeting he attended with his father about the Turpin's insult to the community but Adam defended them and their decision saying that as smart as their daughter was, she probably needed more than their school could offer and they shouldn't begrudge Cecile Turpin a better education. On the way home, Ben had tried to explain to Adam that he was there to support the local school, not to speak against it. Adam had to remind his father how he had needed to search beyond the school when he attended it, reading books on his own and creating his own self-exams to test his knowledge. So Ben admitted to Adam that Adam was right but that he should be more diplomatic in his "criticisms" of the school and the teacher—it was difficult enough to find a good teacher.

But other than that, Adam was basically oblivious to the Turpins and their intelligent daughter. And at nineteen, Cecile returned from Europe and Joe noticed her. Most of the young men noticed her and smiled at her at church and wanted to walk her home Sundays but her parents wouldn't allow it. Everyone said that it was because, according to her parents, none of the local boys were good enough for their daughter and that they probably wanted her to marry one of those foreign princes. And it seemed to be true because when Joe asked Cecile to the spring dance, her father, who was standing in the church yard waiting to help Cecile into their carriage that was parked next to the Cratwright's buckboard, said that he and his wife were going to the dance and would bring Cecile themselves.

Adam grinned as Joe's face dropped with disappointment. Hoss elbowed Adam-Hoss had bet Joe five dollars that Cecile would turn him down. Joe later protested that he didn't owe Hoss anything; it hadn't been Cecile who had declined his invitation, it was her father who had answered for her. Adam was asked to judge the outcome of the bet, had to agree that Joe was right-it hadn't been Cecile. But Adam had watched the discussion between Joe and her father and saw that Cecile had paid no attention to what they were saying even though it was about her; she was looking at Adam, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. Her flowered bonnet framed her face and emphasized her incandescent beauty. Adam couldn't get Cecile's face out of his mind and was silent on the ride home while Joe and Hoss bickered. And then, a week later, Cecile had come out of the dress shop to say hello to him and Adam didn't know how he felt about her except that Cecile touched him, made him feel an emotion that he had never known or felt so he didn't know how to describe it, didn't know its name. It was transcendent joy-euphoria.


	3. Chapter 3

_At the Dance_

"Your hands are so beautiful," Cecile said. "Hold up your palm…like this." Cecile held up her right hand toward Adam, palm out and he did as she asked with his left hand. Cecile placed her palm against his, her small delicate hand dwarfed by his broad-heeled hand and its long, elegant fingers. "And palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss," she said quietly.

"Then let lips do what hands do," Adam said and watched as Cecile smiled delightedly.

She clapped her hands together with obvious joy but Adam regretted that she had taken the warmth of her hand away even if it was to express such pleasure. "Oh, yes, Adam, you've read it!"

Adam smiled at her. Cecile's face reflected such radiant happiness that just seeing her made Adam happy as well. "Yes, I've read it." He laughed lightly.

"Such foolish characters, don't you think? To have died for love. Love is supposed to make people happy but I suppose I can understand how, when it's suddenly lost…" Cecile looked away and then back at him.

The beauty of her face grabbed him around the throat and strangled the words from him. "Well, if they were silly at all it's because they were too young," he said, "and too impulsive." He resisted the urge to reach out and touch Cecile's rounded cheek, to smother himself in her dark hair.

"Yes," Cecile said, her face becoming serious. "Too young and too impulsive. Had Romeo only waited, sat by her body and waited, had prayed. Just a short prayer would have been enough time… Juliet was only thirteen, do you know that?"

"Yes," Adam answered. He couldn't help but grin at the naiveté of her question, as if she was the only one to be aware of Juliet's youth.

"People think girls that young can't know what love is but they can, you know."

"Now how would I know that?"

Cecile laughed and it reminded Adam of sunshine spreading its glory over everything and warming the world and all that was in it. Her laughter warmed his heart like that.

"I suppose you wouldn't," Cecile said. Then both her voice and her eyes dropped. "But I know, Adam. Believe me, it's true."

"I believe you, Cecile." Adam didn't like seeing her this way, her face taking on a sadness. "Cecile," he said and was pleased to see her look up at him with expectation. "Shall we go inside? Do you feel like dancing again?"

"May I take off my shoes? They're pinching me. Besides, I dance better that way, when I have a connection with the ground. Would you mind? Would you be ashamed of me?"

Adam paused for a moment. "No, I don't mind. And I would never be ashamed of you." Then he watched as Cecile bent down and quickly unlaced the length of her heeled boots and removing them, let them fall on the wooden planks of the school's back porch where the dance was being held. Adam felt he should turn his eyes away as she exposed her legs to roll down her white stockings, first one, then the other, but he didn't. He enjoyed the revealed curve of her calves and the narrow elegance of her ankles as they were exposed but what struck Adam the most was that Cecile wasn't being seductive-she was just taking off her stockings with no other intention than to be rid of them, to release her legs and feet from this second skin.

She stood for a moment, her stockings in her hand, thinking of where to put them. "Here," Adam said, "I'll take them." He put out his hand.

"Thank you," she said and handed him the stockings which he tucked into his pocket. Then he placed his hand on the small of her back and walked her into the large room and smiled at her as he put out his arm and held up his cupped hand and she fit herself into him so that they moved about the dance floor. Without the shoe's heels, Cecile was even smaller.

"I can't dance with anyone else but you now. Not for the rest of the night," Cecile said.

"And why is that?" Adam asked.

"Because they may not dance as well as you and step on my feet."

Adam burst into deep laughter and Cecile smiled up at him. "You are a cunning little thing, aren't you?" Adam said to her. And he held her closer and she danced with no one but him and he with no one but her. And Adam was smitten.

It was only after Mr. Turpin walked over to them and tapped Adam on the shoulder saying that it was time for Cecile to leave and he took her away that Adam remembered her shoes on the back porch of the building and the white silk stockings in his pocket. By the time he had retrieved the boots, the Turpin's carriage was gone. Adam held her boots and decided that he would ride to their house and leave them on her front porch so he did. But her stockings he kept; Adam felt that the sight of Cecile's stockings might give Mr. Turpin the wrong idea. And when Adam was home and in his room, he pulled the stockings out of his pocket and ran them through his hands. They had encased Cecile's legs, caressing her delicate skin and so he pressed them against his cheek and closed his eyes.

Then he pulled them away and threw them on the top of his bureau. "Idiot," he said to himself. He laughed at his foolishness and removed his string tie and threw that on top of the stockings. The black of the tie and the pure whiteness of the stockings only illustrated, Adam thought, how he and Cecile were so different. He was almost thirty-two and becoming set in his bachelor ways and she was a young, fresh girl of nineteen on the threshold of her life and Adam had no business holding romantic thoughts of her, he felt. So he slid into bed and picked up the book he had been reading but found it difficult to concentrate on Humphrey Clinker and his cohorts so Adam closed the novel and tossed it on the floor. And Adam's last thought as he was drifting off to what ended up being an uneasy sleep, was that there was enough mystery, irony, happiness and pain in life; no need to borrow them from a novel.


	4. Chapter 4

_A Meal of Anger_

"Look, Joe," Adam said, "I did NOT steal Cecile away. First, she was never yours. Second, I asked her to dance and it just happened that we got along, that's all." Adam, standing at the sideboard, poured himself another cup of coffee. Arguing with Joe was not his idea of how to start any day but not today in particular-he found that he had a longing to ride to Cecile's; he had no particular excuse to go there except to return her stockings. But considering the intimacy of the item, he felt that it would be better if he just kept the stockings. Besides, he wanted them. Adam felt foolish when he had picked up the stockings that morning and folded them over and over until he had a small packet and tucked them in his top drawer. And he had also thrilled when he touched them as if they were a talisman and had some magical power to make Cecile appear before him if he just knew the correct incantation. "You didn't get enough sleep, boy," he told himself and gave a small laugh. Then he had gone down to breakfast.

Adam sat back down at the breakfast table and leaning on one elbow, sipped his coffee. Ben looked up from under his knitted brows to see how Joe would react to Adam's comments.

"Yeah, but I saw you take her out the back way." Joe glowered at Adam. Joe knew that Adam wasn't necessarily better looking than he and even at Joe's youthful twenty years, he had quite a bit of experience with woman, maybe even more than Adam had when he was his age, so the idea that Cecile Turpin would prefer Adam to him made him boil inside. Joe knew that when it came down to it, Adam would probably win in any contest but did he have to win at this one too?

"She said she was overly warm and asked to be taken outside. We went out back, talked a while and then went back inside and danced. That's it. That's all. I don't know what you think happened but what really did happen is pretty tame. You have a wild imagination, boy-don't let it run away with you."

Hoss and Ben were carefully watching and listening. It upset Ben to see his sons argue about anything but to be set against one another over a girl was ridiculous as far as Ben was concerned; no female was worth this disharmony. Hoss felt his stomach twist; he wanted peace between them the same as his father did so he was waiting for a chance to make a point, to reconcile his two brothers but Hoss also knew that Adam wasn't easily assuaged and that many things he said were more insidious than they seemed at the time he said them-it was only later, after mulling it over that the full import of his words was understood. And Hoss knew Joe would do that-Joe tended to ruminate and later become angry all over again despite any previous reconciliation having been reached.

"Why don't you just admit it, Adam," Joe said. "After being rejected by so many women, you figured that the only chance you had was with someone who was young and doesn't know any better. Someone who hasn't heard about you and your ways." Joe waited, his muscles tense. He knew that he had hit a soft spot with Adam because Adam froze, his cup at his lips. And then Adam placed his cup carefully on its saucer.

"You just better shut the hell up, boy, or I'll shut that big mouth for you." Adam stood up and leaned toward Joe, his hands on the table. "How'd you like to eat that napkin?"

Ben stood up. Adam had recently been courting Mavis Green but it hadn't gone well. Adam had come close to being married, had asked Mavis who readily accepted but then Adam decided that he didn't feel the depth of emotion needed to be with her for his lifetime and broke it off, regretting it but knowing that it had to be done. The dissolution of their relationship was hard on Mavis; to console herself she spread lies about Adam, said that he had desired her, wanted her before they were married, importuning her to sacrifice her virtue to prove her love for him and so she had to end things. Mavis' confidantes nodded in agreement with her "decision" and sympathized with poor Mavis-a man like that, a man so lustful, would make a bad husband, would put too many demands on his wife. Adam had wondered, once he had thought about it more, if that had been the reason that Mrs. Turpin hadn't wanted Cecile to speak to him, that she had heard Mavis' slanders and believed them.

"That's enough, you two," Ben had said. "I won't have it. It's shameful to have you two at each other's throats over an unimportant girl. Cecile may be pretty but neither of you are in love with her." Adam looked at his father. "You two need to focus on what needs to be done around here, not on which one can win a girl-compete over who can break the most horses, not over who can break the most hearts."

Adam pushed his chair further back and stepped away from the table. "Don't be so sure you know what you're saying, Pa. I don't think Cecile is unimportant. Joe? Yes. Cecile? No." And Adam walked over to the credenza to get his hat to leave for the corral to break horses.

Joe jumped up and started shouting, "Say that to my face, Adam! Don't just say it and walk away!" Joe started after Adam who just turned calmly to face his younger brother but Ben had already grabbed Joe by the arm and was holding him back. Joe was still too young, too much in awe of his father to wrest himself away and to punch Adam's serene face. Joe knew that Adam could easily pound him into the dirt so deep that he might as well have a tombstone at his head but he would enjoy getting a few shots in at Adam. He could almost feel the impact his fist would make on Adam's jaw, the satisfactory sound of knuckles smashing into bone. That would take that sardonic grin off oldest brother's face.

Adam gave a small sound of disdain, then walked out and by then, Hoss was also holding Joe back. "Now, Joe, calm down. You just got hurt pride and it ain't worth mixin' it up with Adam. Just relax, boy. Get your hat and we'll go down to the corral and show Adam how you can set a horse. Besides, it'll give you experience for some of them big-boned sportin' women at Miss Opal's-they can buck you off iffen you don't know to stay on." And at that picture, Joe laughed and felt all the anger and tension leave him. There were other girls, other women and if Adam wanted Cecile, well, Joe would be "gracious" and step aside. But he would have liked to have taken Cecile out on the back porch of the schoolhouse himself and kissed her in the moonlight as he was sure Adam had done. She certainly was pretty and Joe had imagined the taste of her sweet mouth. But there were other girls, Joe thought, and he can could console himself with one of them.


	5. Chapter 5

_At the Lake_

"You were right, Adam. It is beautiful-it's as if we were on the moon." Cecile seemed to dance, she moved so gracefully, between the huge boulders beside the lake and ran her hands over their rounded surfaces that were covered with small pits and irregularities. In some places, the boulders were stacked so high that they formed small mountains.

Adam watched her, smiling at her obvious delight as she moved among the huge rocks, and he felt such overwhelming tenderness toward Cecile that he had to look away. He had no idea why she aroused such feelings in him, this combination of desire and protectiveness, but she did.

Cecile turned to him and smiled. "Adam, may I go wading?"

"If you like, but I have to warn you that the water's cold." He didn't know why Cecile had asked him-she didn't need his permission.

Cecile lightly ran to Adam where he stood by the shore. He had left the Turpin's carriage above the boulder line and they had walked down the declivity to the rocky shore. Cecile leaned against one of the smaller boulders and pulled off her shoes and stockings and Adam watched again, considering how it would feel to run his hands under her short pantaloons and up her legs and to feel the smooth length of her thigh. Would she stop him, he wondered? Perhaps she would slap him and demand he take her home. Maybe she would cry, be offended that Adam thought she would allow such liberties. But Adam was more than certain that Cecile would look at him in that trusting way she had and allow him to run his hands over her if he desired, that she would accept his advances and submit to anything he did. And because he was certain that Cecile would give herself to him, Adam was more determined to remain sexually aloof-he had to protect Cecile from himself.

Adam smiled gently as Cecile gingerly waded in the water up to her ankles as she held up her skirts.

"Well, is it cold?" Adam asked, knowing that it was.

Cecile turned her head. "Freezing."

Adam laughed. "I warned you." He grinned as Cecile waded in further up to her knees.

"Come on, Adam, come in the water," she called to him.

"No, thank you," he said. He watched as Cecile hoisted her skirts higher and he could see the lace at the edge of her pantaloons that ended above her knees start to dip into the water as she went out further. Suddenly Adam became anxious. He threw down the piece of grass he had been twirling in his hands as he leaned against a boulder and walked closer to the water's edge. It gently lapped seductively at his feet as if beckoning him.

Cecile turned to face him. Adam felt a cold fear grip him as he was unsure just what she would do-her face didn't reveal her mind. He envisioned her ducking down into the water and being gone forever or going out even deeper and then swimming out until she disappeared into the dark water. Visions of her drowned body ran through his mind, of his holding her limp and lifeless body in his arms as he carried her out of the lake. But none of that happened; she began to walk back to him and he sighed in relief. "Get a hold of yourself," he whispered to himself.

Finally Cecile was back on the beach, facing him, smiling. "It was too cold to go in deeper," she said, laughing and shivering slightly. And then she stopped and scrutinized his face. "Adam, were you worried about me?"

"Not worried, just concerned-the water's really too cold to go in even to wade. I should have stopped you."

"Stopped me?" Celine looked puzzled.

"I need to get you back home anyway. I promised your parents that I'd have you back for Sunday dinner and it's a long ride and if I don't keep my word, they'll probably forbid you from ever seeing me again." Adam tried to keep it light, to have Cecile think it was just a flip remark but he knew it was true-her parents would be upset and snatch her into the house and tell him to never come back. And he didn't think he could bear to have her pulled from him, taken away and be forbidden.

"I suppose so," Cecile said, "but it's so beautiful here and the lake is…it can't be described." Cecile turned to look back at the lake. "It's frightening in a way-so vast and beautiful. I think too much beauty can kill a person-it becomes unbearable to exist in its presence."

"If that were true," Adam said quietly, "then I would have dropped lifeless at your feet long before this." Cecile turned, looking at him as if in a trance and then reached up to touch his cheek; Adam caught his breath at her tender gesture. Then she touched his mouth, running her fingers lightly across his lips-so lightly that after she took her hand away, he wondered if he had only imagined her touch.

"Your mouth is so beautiful," she said. "So delicate."

Adam felt himself moved and had she been any other woman, he would have bent her over his arm and kissed her but held himself back. Adam was sure that Cecile would have allowed him to indulge his desire for her flesh and so he needed to hold himself in check. So instead of taking her, Adam gently took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. Cecile looked at him with curiosity and then softly whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?" Adam asked.

"For bringing me here-for bringing me to the lake."

"You're very welcome. Now, young lady," Adam said, lifting Cecile up to sit on one of the boulders, her knees now level with his chest. "Use my handkerchief to dry your feet-you need to put your stockings and shoes back on." Adam rolled one stocking with his hands the way he did his socks before he put them on, and after Cecile had brushed of the sand and dried her foot, she pointed her toes and Adam slid the stockings over them and over her heel. "The rest is up to you," he said and Cecile laughed. Then she pointed her other foot and Adam lifted her foot up. He saw the gentle, sloping curve of her instep and without thinking, he lifted her foot to his lips and kissed the elegant arch. He felt her react with a slight pulling back; they were both taken by surprise. Then Adam, feeling the heat rise up his neck, slid that stocking on her foot. He stepped back and turned away while Cecile finished rolling the stockings up and then put on her shoes which Adam had set on the boulder beside her.

"I'm decent now. Shall we go? Adam?"

Adam turned back to her; he had composed his face to one of nonchalance. He lifted Cecile down and taking her hand, he helped pull her up the incline back to the carriage and lifted her up to the seat. Cecile tied on her bonnet which she had left in the buggy. He climbed up beside her and took the reins.

"Adam," Cecile asked quietly as they left the lake, "will you bring me here again when it's warmer?"

Adam turned to look at Cecile and as it was each time he saw her, she moved him. "Yes, and I'll show you the petroglyphs on some of the boulders-there are some beside the Truckee River as well. Maybe this coming Sunday after church, I can whisk you away again but I'll come prepared with my own carriage. Why don't you come to dinner next Sunday as well? Would you like that?"

"Oh, Adam, I'd love that." Cecile smiled at him, a joyous smile. Adam thought of how she would light up their table-the four of them with Cecile to delight them. _Then Pa won't be so against my seeing her._ And they rode on, comfortable in each other's company, Adam would point out something interesting to Cecile as they passed it. And Cecile asked questions about the variety of trees and they even passed a deer with two fauns. The three animals stood frozen and stared at them.

"See," Adam commented. "Even the wild animals are stunned, transfixed by your beauty. Why, I believe that even the sun has stopped moving and is frozen above us so that it can shine down on only us because of you." Cecile laughed and Adam was delighted; he couldn't help but join in her laughter. Cecile stirred his blood and yet, she hadn't behaved in any salacious manner, hadn't even given him a sly look of desire so Adam was unsure how to behave. But he still longed to drown in Cecile's dark, glossy hair and to kiss the length of her milky neck. And he knew that her legs were shapely with exquisite ankles and his imagination filled in the rest. He wanted to hold Cecile next to him, to hear her softly make moans of desire and pleasure and Adam knew that it wouldn't take much persuasion to pull her down in the grass and take her by the lake with the sound of the yearning waves reaching for the land moving in a rhythm to match their own.


	6. Chapter 6

_A Father's Love_

"You invited her to dinner next Sunday?" Ben asked.

Adam looked up from the dinner of roast pork and stared across the table questioningly. "Yes. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"Oh, you're just parading her in front of me, aren't you?" Joe said, obviously annoyed. That would be just like Adam.

Ben leaned one elbow on the table and rested his forehead-he didn't want another argument about Cecile Turpin.

"I'm not doing anything of the sort," Adam said with obvious disgust. "I just like her and I get the feeling that she's been sheltered too much and needs to get out more-she was happy to be invited."

"Maybe it's so she can see Joe again," Hoss offered with a sly grin.

Adam and Joe had to grin as well. "Maybe it is," Adam said, "but I thought she had better taste."

"If she's seeing you, she can't have much taste." Joe grinned at Adam and Adam smiled back. Peace had been restored.

Ben cleared his throat to draw his sons' attention. "I don't think Cecile's parents will allow her to come," Ben said going back to his meal. "As you said, she's been sheltered and it may be that the gossip is true, that her parents have higher aspirations for her." Ben was sure that Cecile wouldn't be at their table next weekend, not if her parents had anything to do with it. He was still surprised that Cecile had been allowed to go off alone with Adam for a few hours. If what people had said years ago was true, Ben was very surprised.

"Well, thank you for that, Pa. I'm glad that you think so highly of me." Adam knew that his father wasn't being insulting but he felt such a sense of loss after he had taken Cecile home that he wanted an argument, some way to work off this emptiness he felt.

"Now, Adam, you know that's not what I mean," Ben said. "But parents do have a say in their daughters' lives-legally-it's not the same with sons. Daughters, well, there's more to worry about with a girl and you are-more worldly, Adam, that's all. More practiced in relationships than she is. After all, she's spent all those years in girls' schools." Ben looked from Hoss to Adam and then Joe. "Now look, boys, all three of you have at one time or another faced an angry father or at least a disapproving one."

"I think ol' Joe here has even bobbed and weaved avoiding a few shotgun shells," Hoss said. "All them dancin' lessons Adam gave 'im helped him avoid gettin' an ass-load of pellets." All of them laughed, even Joe, except for Ben.

"I don't see anything funny about that," Ben said and the three brothers looked to one another, barely suppressing their amusement. "You three know that fathers have a say in who their daughters see and although I HOPE," Ben emphasized, "that no father would reject any of you for a bad reputation with women," and Ben, Adam and Hoss looked directly at Joe, "some fathers are careful and feel that they should basically choose who their daughters see."

Adam moved the food around on his plate with his fork. "I've already asked Mr. Turpin and he agreed that Cecile could spend the whole afternoon with me and have dinner with us so tell Hop Sing to set another place."

Ben stopped eating again. "George said that she could come here?"

"Yes," Adam said. "Why are you so surprised? Turpin agreed that I could take her out to see the boulder carvings and then here for dinner."

"Well," Ben said, going back to his meal, "I'm surprised it was that easy."

It hadn't been that easy but Adam didn't want to reveal how difficult it had been.

When Adam had pulled the carriage up to the Turpin's place that afternoon, George Turpin was sitting on the front porch, rocking and smoking his pipe. Adam's horse was still hitched loosely to the rail so that it could crop the nearby grass. Mr. Turpin stood up and watched as Adam lifted down Cecile.

"Did you have a nice time," George Turpin asked his daughter who ran to him and hugged him.

"Oh, father, I had a wonderful time! Adam took me to their lake that stretches out almost forever and showed me these huge boulders that look as if some giant stacked them in great piles. And I saw a deer and her two fauns and Adam taught me about the different types of trees and what their lumber is best used for."

Mr. Turpin smiled broadly-he liked seeing his daughter happy. He was glad about Adam Cartwright taking an interest in his daughter, especially if Adam could provide such happy times for Cecile. He put his arm around his daughter and Adam stood, waiting to ask about next Sunday.

"Well, I'm glad you had a nice time, pumpkin. I see that you took some sun-your cheeks are pink." Mr. Turpin chucked his daughter under her chin.

Mrs. Turpin came to the door and Adam pulled off his hat. Mrs. Turpin stared at Adam and he smiled but she just remained stone-faced. "It's about time you brought her home, Adam. Dinner is ready, Cecile."

"Good evening, Mrs. Turpin," Adam said. "I have Cecile back by dinner-as I promised." He smiled at Mrs. Turpin who did not respond in kind.

"Cecile," Mrs. Turpin said sharply, "come in and get ready for dinner. Good day, Mr. Cartwright."

"May Adam stay for dinner?" Cecile eagerly looked back and forth between her parents.

"Cecile," Mrs. Turpin answered, "I don't think that it would…"

"Cecile, I can't" Adam broke in. "I'm expected home. But thank you." Adam nodded to Mrs. Turpin and tried not to notice Cecile's disappointed face-he didn't want to make her feel anything but happiness and here he had disappointed her already by declining before the invitation was properly proffered. "But I was wondering if Cecile," Adam turned to her parents, "with your permission, could have dinner at the Ponderosa this coming Sunday." Adam noticed how Cecile's face softened as she looked at him-he was keeping true to his word. "I thought that after services I could show her the boulders on the Truckee River-the ones with the carvings-and then to the Ponderosa for dinner. I promise to have her home before dark."

Cecile turned to her parents. "I want to go," she said. "Adam feels he needs to ask your permission so please give it."

"Now you listen here, young lady," Mrs. Turpin began. "Don't get so high and mighty that you think…"

"Edwina," Mr. Turpin interrupted, "We have company." Mrs. Turpin stopped and clasped her hands together, her mouth pursed but she remained silent. "I think that Cecile might go with Adam next Sunday," Mr. Turpin added more to his wife than to anyone else.

Cecile smiled and stood on her tip-toes to kiss her father on the cheek. "Oh, thank you." She then turned to Adam and touched his arm looking up at him. Adam caught his breath at her expression; the love she had for him shone in her eyes. "I'll be ready to go right after church, Adam. I can't wait." Then she turned and swept past her mother who still glowered at Adam and then she too turned and went into the house, closing the door behind her.

"Thank you for trusting me," Adam said to Mr. Turpin.

"Sit down for a moment, Adam, won't you?" Mr. Turpin sat back down and Adam took another chair on the porch.

"I don't put much credence in gossip," George Turpin said as he looked out into the dusk. Night fell quickly in Nevada territory, the sky reflecting the colors yellow and orange as the sun began to fall below the horizon.

Adam took a deep breath; he was sure that Mr. Turpin was going to bring up what Mavis Green had said about him-the gossip she had spread. To Adam, this explained everything. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. My father always told my brothers and me not to put too much stock in gossip so I've made a point to avoid it."

"Good." Mr. Turpin took a puff on his pipe as if considering what Adam had said. "My wife and I always kept more or less to ourselves about private things and when a person does that, people contrive facts, use their imagination and often that's dangerous. Even if the facts are correct, the interpretation of those facts make something innocent into something malignant." Mr. Turpin took another drag on his pipe. Then he continued. "I'm not a good man in many ways-that I know. I'm proud and I'm vain and tend to hold grudges but there is one thing that might redeem some of those faults-I love my daughter and I only want what's best for her."

Adam looked down at his hat and turned it in his hands. "Why are you telling me this?" Adam wondered when Mr. Turpin was going to bring up Mavis or if he even was.

"Because I'm trusting you with my daughter."

"Is this a subtle threat? Am I going to feel a shotgun in my back any time soon?"

Mr. Turpin chuckled and glanced over at the man who had spent the last few hours with his daughter. This man had an intelligent face but he too looked as if he kept his feelings hidden, didn't share much of himself with others, a characteristic of a man who has known great pain. _Adam probably is an excellent poker player,_ Turpin thought. But Mr. Turpin had been worried about Adam and his daughter together. In his wife's mind, Adam was too old for Cecile and her past fears for her beautiful daughter came rushing upon her when she saw how taken Cecile was with Adam. But then Cecile seemed to have always been taken with Adam. Even as a child, whenever Adam was around, whether at church, in the street or in their home, Cecile was in awe of the man with the dark hair and the mischievous eyes and the deep, hearty laugh. And so Mrs. Turpin was afraid for Cecile.

"No, Adam. At least I hope it never comes to that although I do keep my shotgun loaded and right where I can get at it-for emergencies. Cecile is…vulnerable. That's the only word I know to describe her-if she cares for someone, she trusts them too much. Her mother feels that you have ulterior motives, that you might take advantage of someone as unsophisticated as Cecile is; I don't think you'd be that cruel. But I've misjudged men before. I hope this isn't one of those times."

Adam stood up and put his hat on. "Mr. Turpin, I know that Cecile is, as you say, vulnerable-I can sense it. But she's also lovely and endearing and it hasn't taken long for me to care for her. And she is a woman despite what you and your wife may want to think-she's not a child anymore and she has a mind of her own. And I do think Cecile returns my feelings." Adam started down the porch steps and then he turned back. "If you would rather, by the time next Sunday comes around, that Cecile not come with me, I'll understand. But I don't think Cecile will." Adam untied his horse and mounted and rode back home to his family and Sunday dinner.


	7. Chapter 7

_The Signs_

"I wish that I had brought parchment and charcoal," Cecile said with a tone of disappointment. "Then I could make rubbings and look at them at my leisure and maybe, if I really tried, I could understand what these carvings mean."

Adam chuckled. "Well, you're aiming high, Cecile. I have to admit they are intriguing. They've puzzled a lot of people." The way Cecile ran her fingers over and into the grooves of the ancient carvings reminded Adam of the time he had seen a blind man read Braille, how the man had run his fingers delicately over the raised bumps to read them with his fingertips.

"Imagine how much effort it must have taken to chisel into these rocks-what they were saying must have been important to them-what they wanted to leave behind of their ideas."

"Maybe I should carve our initials into one of the trees," Adam said, leaning close to Cecile. "Do you think that we're so important that this afternoon should be eternized in the trunk of a tree?" Adam asked with a wicked grin.

"You would probably have an argument with me one day and then come out with an axe and chop the tree down and use it for firewood," Cecile said turning her face up to him in a playful way.

"Never," Adam said. And then his face dropped into seriousness. "I would want to remember this afternoon always. And if the tree were chopped, I'd keep the section that commemorates us and this afternoon and keep it forever." His mind went back to Cecile's white stockings in his top drawer and he wondered if he wanted to collect mementoes of her in case she was ever taken from him.

Cecile blushed and turned to the boulder she had been examining. "What do you think this one means?" Cecile asked, touching a spiral design.

"I don't know," Adam said. "Some of them are obvious, such as the figure of the man but that one…" But Adam was more interested in looking at Cecile than the drawings. He thought she looked particularly lovely that morning in a soft green dress with a matching manteaux and she was wearing a spring bonnet with a green ribbon and pink roses.

"I think the spiral stands for God-or their god-that and infinity-infinite love. God's infinite love."

"And why do you think that?" Adam was curious as to the way she thought; her mind worked differently than anyone else's that he knew..

"Because that's the way I see it, the way I see forever, like a spiral, always circling, circling within a person and without. The nuns told us that God was everywhere at all moments and at all times, within and without-do you believe that, Adam, that God is within each of us?"

"Well, I've never really given it much thought. I suppose that God could be seen that way. I've known Indians and others people such as Hop Sing, our Chinese cook, who don't believe in a traditional god but they have moral, spiritual rules by which they abide. And I do believe that each of us carries within himself his own belief of what's right and what's wrong-whether that's instilled by religion, parents or just experience doesn't matter-and when we breach that, when we break our own moral code, we suffer. Not from hellfire or anything like that, but from a loss of who we thought we were. That's a type of hell in my opinion-one I've dipped my toes in more times than I like, so to speak."

"Yes, that is a hell-to lose who you are-to lose your way." Cecile turned back to the boulder. It had more interesting carvings than any of the others and the carvings were more deeply incised as if the creator wanted them to last until the end of time.

Adam looked at Cecile's elegant profile, aloof yet sad. It seemed that in Cecile he had found all the things he always felt a woman should be, should have. Granted, she was unusual and he felt as if he would never really know her but she was delectable and desirable and he was irrevocably drawn to her. "I am a little world made cunningly…"

"What?" Cecile turned to him.

"You just put me in mind of a poem I read and liked so I memorized it; I used to do that when I was young. Anyway, that's the first line."

"Tell it to me, Adam, would you?" Cecile asked.

"Well, let's see…" Adam looked up to the clouds to better remember and then recited,

"I am a little world made cunningly

Of elements and an angelic sprite,

But black sin hath betray'd to endless night

My world's both parts, and oh, both parts must die."

Adam looked at Cecile and she seemed to barely breathe. "Is that all?"

"No," he said and continued:

"You which beyond that heaven which was most high

Have found new spheres, and of new lands can write,

Pour new seas in mine eyes, that so I might

Drown my world with my weeping earnestly,

Or wash it, if it must be drown'd no more.

But oh it must be burnt; alas the fire

Of lust and envy have burnt it heretofore,

And made it fouler; let their flames retire,

And burn me O Lord, with a fiery zeal

Of thee and thy house, which doth in eating heal."

"Oh, that was beautiful, Adam. But the nuns would have chastised me for reading a poem like that."

"Why? It's a religious poem, it's one of Donne's _Holy Sonnets_."

"Nevertheless, it has the word 'lust' in it-and it sounds as if it's about naughty thoughts, not about heaven," She smiled at Adam and he grinned back. He was pleased to find that Cecile had a bit of mischief in her. But then her face changed as she looked back to the boulder. "But it does seem as if it fits these carvings-new spheres, new lands…"

Adam studied Cecile. She thought deeply about things and in that, Adam felt he found a sympathetic soul. Many a night he had lain awake thinking about his life and its purpose but now he lay awake nights thinking of Cecile, trying to determine if what he felt was truly love or just lust. He wanted to protect Cecile from life's "slings and arrows," to make certain she was happy and only experienced the pleasant things in life. But he knew he couldn't protect her from her thoughts, from that sharp mind of hers.

"When I was in Germany," she said, "I wanted to be a nun. I thought that a convent would be the perfect place for the rest of my life-they couldn't find me there. But I knew that I shouldn't, couldn't be a nun-I wasn't pure of heart or thought. But I wanted to hide away." Cecile looked out past Adam as if she saw some being invisible to him on which she focused.

"Why would you want to hide away from life? You seem to enjoy being out in it so much?"

"Life hurts." Cecile's face took on a radiance as she looked up at the sky. "I wished to be the bride of Christ. I hoped that I would be like Saint Teresa, shot through with the ecstasy of God's love. Is it like that for you, Adam? To be in love? Is it an ecstasy or is it only pain?"

Adam paused for a moment. He weighed his words carefully. "It's a combination of both, I suppose. But as St. Teresa said, the pain was so great that she moaned but she also said something along the line that the excessive pain was sweet and that she desired more of it. I think it's like that with love; despite the pain of it, we want more. We crave more." Adam found himself trying to control his breathing which threatened to give away his heightened state-he thought of Cecile moaning under him and his bringing her to that ecstasy where she would be transported from her earthly state to one of supreme elevation where the world drops away. Adam quickly redirected the conversation or he would soon be kissing Cecile, whispering seductive words in her ear. "You went to a convent school?"

Cecile looked as if she had been surprised, caught off guard, but Adam didn't know why.

"I suppose it was a school of a type, but the nuns-they took care of us, took us out in the countryside. Breathing the air was like biting into an apple-so sharp and crisp." Cecile looked away from Adam to the Truckee River. "The river's moving so quickly. It's a bit like time, isn't it-always flowing, passing-passing us by."

"The glaciers are melting as well as the snow on the higher levels, on the mountains. That's what's feeding the river and causing it to move so quickly and then the Truckee empties into Pyramid Lake."

"Everything's always so cold," Cecile said more to herself than Adam. "So very cold."

"Cecile," Adam quietly said. She turned to look at him and Adam felt as if she had forgotten he was there and was suddenly surprised to see him. "It's about time for dinner. We're eating early today in your honor. We should leave now." He reached out for her hand and she stared at it. "Cecile?" She looked up at him as if she were lost and he was a stranger. "Give me your hand, Cecile." She put out her hand and when Adam closed his around hers, she seemed to come back to herself.

"Your hand is warm. Isn't it odd, Adam, how important it is for people to touch one another." she said with a faint smile. Cecile gently took Adam's hand and pressed it to her cheek. She looked at Adam with wide eyes. "Why do we need these things, do you think, Adam? Touch, smell. Have you ever noticed how so much of showing love is like when one was an infant, searching with one's mouth for connection, the sensations, sucking and touching and feeling-holding closely. Have you ever thought about it? How it soothes us, comforts us."

Adam examined her face. If Cecile was trying to seduce him, it was working-his pulse was racing and he thought, _I'm sweatin' like a stallion let loose on a mare._ But she had already taken his hand away and held it in her two hands, his palm up.

"Your hand is supposed to tell all about you and your future. This is your lifeline, Adam." She ran one finger over the line that curved around his thumb's mound. "You'll live a long life-see how it extends almost to the other side of your hand? But it doesn't say if you'll be happy or not. Terrible isn't it, not to know?" Cecile looked up at Adam. "But that's only if you believe such things."

"We need to go now," Adam said. He grasped Cecile's hand and helped her to the rig parked beside the road. The horse was placidly cropping the high grass. Cecile was quiet, pensive on the ride to the Ponderosa. Adam wondered what had her so engrossed in herself but he wasn't sure if he should ask, if he even wanted to know. Nevertheless, Adam kept stealing glances at Cecile as she sat next to him. And if he hadn't been sure he wanted Cecile before, he knew he did now. He would treasure her the same way he would a delicate orchid, to admire, to enjoy, to cherish and to protect from the harshness of the elements.


	8. Chapter 8

_Dinner at the Ponderosa_

Adam wasn't sure if the dinner went well or not.

When they arrived at the Ponderosa and Adam pulled the rig up in the yard, Cecile had an attack of nerves and turned to Adam, her face full of anxiety and told him that perhaps he should take her home. So Adam gently cajoled her and said that his family was nervous about meeting her; he had told them such wonderful things about her-how beautiful she was and how brilliant. He was sure that his father was afraid the house wouldn't impress Cecile and that she would take home tales about how tawdry the Ponderosa was compared to the Turpin house. At this Cecile laughed; she knew then that Adam was teasing her, just trying to relax her.

"And Hoss, he's probably afraid that he won't be able to make any charming conversation with you and that you'll think he's just some clumsy buffoon. And as far as Joe goes, why since he's been sparkin' Cindy Mason, he may be worried that you'll fall madly in love with him and what would he do then with two women?"

Cecile smiled and Adam could tell that she had relaxed a bit. So he lifted her down from the rig and just as they were almost on the porch, Ben came out and welcomed Cecile with both hands. Adam was thankful for his father's welcome and felt gratitude toward him. But Adam couldn't forget his father's remarks about Cecile that he had made the night before when Ben had asked Adam how he felt about Cecile. Did he think he was in love with her? Adam said that it was an odd way to phrase the question-did Adam "think" he was in love with her, as if he was self-deluding. So Adam told his father straight out that yes, he did love Cecile. What she felt about him, he wasn't sure yet, but Adam had said, he was happy when he was with Cecile and she seemed happy with him. He cared about her-deeply-waited impatiently to see her again and she filled his waking thoughts. Ben had nodded and then gone back to his pipe. Adam couldn't tell if his father was satisfied with the answer or not.

At the table Cecile had charmed his family. Adam was pleased to see his father relax as well as Cecile and she easily kept up her end of the conversation. The only time she seemed anxious was when Ben asked how she had liked her school back east and how she had liked Europe. Cecile sat silently for a moment and then turned to Adam, almost with a look of desperation. He smiled at her and saw her compose herself. Cecile then said that school was basically school and that she had only been to Germany, not traveled Europe and that most of that was in-Cecile paused for a moment, "…in school."

"Like a finishing school," Joe offered.

"Yes," Cecile said. "It was run by nuns. It was out in the countryside and there really wasn't that much to do except what they directed. We had a specific routine each day. The nuns believed in exercise and fresh air so every morning after breakfast we would have to pack up our sketch pads and our pastels and hike up into the hills and draw the landscape." Cecile's face took on a faraway look. "I didn't bring my sketches back home with me. Or my book."

"Your book?" Ben asked. Adam sat, waiting to intervene if Cecile became upset at any of his family's questions. Adam had asked her a few questions about her schools before but she never wanted to talk about them. He was sure that Cecile was answering only out of politeness to his father.

"I was writing a book on flowers. Other people sketched the mountains and trees but I sketched the flowers-all parts of them. I would spend all the time we had each day on a single bloom trying to see it-to really see it, all the delicate parts of it, the veining, the subtleties of color, to see the depth of the flower, to see into the very soul of the bloom the way God looks into us, into our souls. But with flowers, it's different because flowers have both male parts and female parts, both man and woman inside one being-like a marriage-they have ovaries and as many stamen as there are petals…"

Adam could see that Hoss and Joe were beginning to shift in their chairs, glancing at one another. Ben started to ask more questions but Adam cut into the conversation and began to talk about the petroglyphs and how Cecile had wanted to make rubbings. Perhaps, Adam told her, she might like to sketch the boulders. A drawing showing the massive boulders as they were on the beach would be interesting.

"And the ones that protrude from the water," Cecile added, "they look as if some huge creature is rising up from the depths." Adam smiled at Cecile and she looked at him and gently smiled. Adam said that he would help collect information about their history and if Cecile liked, she could start a book about the boulders and their carvings. He would help with anything she needed.

Hoss added that he had made rubbings once when he was young. "That picnic we took, Pa, 'member, you, me, Adam and Mama Marie? It was afore you were even a thought, Joe," Hoss said. Everyone laughed and Cecile smiled with gentle pleasure. Adam noticed that she seemed to be enjoying herself and sighed in relief. Hoss said he had forgotten all about the rubbings; he had used one of the scorched sticks from their fire and used the cloth napkins in the basket Hop Sing had packed and when they arrived home, Hop Sing had gone on and on about the napkins-half in Chinese and the other half, English, but he had let Hoss keep one-the other napkins would be washed. Hoss wondered if he still had it.

The conversation went on comfortably but when Adam heard the grandfather clock chime four, he excused himself from the table, picked the coffee carafe off the sideboard, and went to Hop Sing who was in the kitchen sitting by the fire and reading a Chinese novel.

"What you want, Mistah Adam?"

"I want dessert. I have to take Miss Cecile home in about a half hour so if it wouldn't be too much trouble…?"

"Okay, Mistah Adam, okay." Hop Sing stood up. "I bring in cake for dessert. Hop Sing make cream cake-very good. Missy Cecile like very much. You see."

"Good," Adam said. "I'll refill the carafe and you bring out the cake." Adam picked up the coffee pot and poured coffee into the carafe. Then, allowing Hop Sing to go first, Adam followed Hop Sing into the other room and was pleased to see Cecile's eyes open wide with delight when she saw the cake. _It takes so little to please her. So very little_. Adam suddenly realized that Cecile's happiness was paramount to him; he loved her.

"Adam," Cecile asked, "can you stop here for a moment? We're almost to my house."

"If I don't have you home before dark, your father will have my head."

Cecile looked away at the passing trees but turned back to Adam. "Please, Adam. Just for a moment."

"All right," Adam said and pulled up the horse. "Is this place to your liking?" He smiled at her.

Cecile blushed. "Yes, this is fine." Adam sat and waited while Cecile seemed to be gathering her courage then she turned to him and quietly asked, "Do you think you could kiss me, Adam?"

"I already have," Adam said making light of kissing her fingertips and the arch of her foot but he felt his pulse step up.

"No, Adam. That's not what I mean. Would you kiss me the way a man does when he cares for a woman? That is, if you care for me."

"I care for you, Cecile. Probably more than I should."

"Why do you say that?"

"I think we need to get going," Adam said as he lifted the reins but Cecile put her hand on his arm and he stopped and looked at her. He wanted to kiss her, had imagined kissing her, had pulled out her silk stockings many a time this fortnight and looked at them, run them through his hands and thought of Cecile and of what it would be like to kiss the small hollow at the base of her skull where the tiny curls formed, to run his tongue down the valley of her spine as she lay on her stomach after a night together. But he was afraid to kiss her, afraid of what Cecile might feel-what he might feel and what it might lead to.

"Please, Adam."

Adam bent toward her and placed one hand on the back of her head, held it and then he kissed her. Cecile softened, giving up her will to his and Adam knew then that he wanted her completely and had to marry her-he couldn't, wouldn't take her any other way.

"Cecile," he whispered, as he ran his mouth over her cheeks, her hair as her bonnet fell backwards. "Oh, my love. Cecile, will you be mine? Will you marry me, my sweet? Will you?"

"Oh, yes, Adam. Oh, yes." And Cecile put her arms around his neck while Adam pressed her small body to him.

But he had to have Cecile home. "Cecile, I need to get you home. Please, my love. Let's go." Adam turned and grabbed up the reins and snapped them and the horse took off at a quick pace. Adam turned to look at Cecile who had slipped her arm through his as he drove the horse and looked up at him adoringly with her golden eyes. _Why does she affect me this way?_ Adam asked himself. And he couldn't answer; all he knew was that he yearned for her, for her voice and her touch and her soft beauty. "I'll talk to your father," Adam said, "about our marrying."

"No, Adam," Cecile said in a slight panic. "I'll talk to him. Please, let me tell him that I love you, that I want to marry you."

Adam stopped the horse again and turned to her. "All right, all right," Adam said soothingly, caressing her cheek. "You can talk to him first then."

Cecile deeply sighed and turned to face the road ahead of them again and spoke as if Adam weren't there. "Yes, I have to tell him first. He'll be upset, I know he will. But I need to tell him that I love you-he has to believe that. And mother-she'll ask me all sorts of questions…I need to talk to them first."

Adam wished that they could talk to her parents together; he didn't want to leave Cecile to face them alone. If he could have, he would have spirited her away that night and together they would start their life where no one knew them. But Adam chastised himself for being foolish to have such thoughts and to give them any serious consideration and yet, he wanted Cecile all to himself and to cherish and protect her-protect her from exactly what, he didn't know.


	9. Chapter 9

_The Angels_

"You did what?" Ben bellowed. He stood up when Adam sprang the news on him after arriving home. And Hoss and Joe on the settee were obviously uncomfortable, Hoss examining his cuticles and Joe looking at the floor, his hands crossed in front of him as he leaned over.

"I asked Cecile to marry me. Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

"Why, in the name of all that's holy, did you do that?" Ben blustered. He and Adam stood facing each other as they had many times before, both determined.

"Because I love her," Adam simply answered.

Ben looked at Adam and saw by his face that he was really in love; Adam loved Cecile Turpin and therefore had taken the next step. Ben felt shamed in the presence of Adam's open emotions and lowered his voice and his eyes. "Have you talked to her father?"

"No, not yet. Cecile wants to talk to him first. I think she hopes to smooth the way for me."

"Hoss, Joe, would you leave us?" Ben asked.

"Yes Sir," Hoss said and nodded to Joe and the two went upstairs.

"Adam, are you sure that you know what you're doing?"

Adam gave a small laugh. "I know what I'm doing, Pa. You act as if I'm just a kid. I've known what I thought before was love and wasn't-this is different. I know this is love and not just affection. Oh, Pa, I love her so." He smiled at the thought of Cecile.

"Cecile is so young and you've only been with her alone, what? Twice? Three times? Maybe you should wait longer, court her some more before you marry her? Get to know her better."

"No, I want to start our life together as quickly as possible. For some reason, I feel the need to hurry."

"Adam, sit down." Ben motioned to the settee.

"I've talked about this enough, Pa. I'm going upstairs and read a little. It'll be a busy day tomorrow."

"Please, Adam, over the years, I've heard things-rumors that weren't really rumors, gossip that you should know about."

"I'm not interested. People have heard gossip about me that isn't true so why should I listen to any about Cecile?" Adam rested his hand on the newel post. "I'm going upstairs and if you're so against my marrying her, we'll live in the hotel until I can build us a small place. I'm marrying her, Pa-I've made up my mind. I love her but what's most important, she loves me. Try to remember how that feels-to be so loved." And Adam went up the stairs.

Ben sank back down on his chair and rested his head in his hands. "Lord, help us all," he muttered.

Adam heard the hollow pounding of the doorknocker but the sound took a few seconds to get through his heavy sleep. He grabbed up his robe, slipped it on, and tying it, went into the hall where he met his father also heading downstairs and then Joe and Hoss behind them. Adam and Ben looked at one another and then, once downstairs, they grabbed their guns off the credenza and Adam pulled the bolt and carefully opened the door.

"Cecile! What…" Adam put his gun down and reached for Cecile who stood before him shivering in her nightgown. "Come in, sweetheart. Come in." Adam put his arm around her and pulled her inside. He noticed that she was barefoot. He glanced at the clock-it was 2:35.

"Come here and sit down," Adam said as he led Cecile to the settee. "Pa, get me a blanket, please and Hoss, stoke up the fire, would you?" Ben looked at Hoss and Joe who stared back at him. Ben nodded to Hoss who poked up the ashes and started the fire going. Adam put the blanket around Cecile's shoulders and then sat beside her on the settee. "Hoss, Joe, leave us alone, would you?" Adam asked, glancing at them.

"Yeah, sure, Adam," Hoss said. "C'mon, Joe, let's go back to bed." As they climbed the stairs Adam could hear them whispering, wanting to know what was wrong, why Cecile had shown up in the early morning hours and only dressed in a nightgown, her hair wild and her feet bare.

Ben had looked outside and saw that Cecile had driven out in a small rig and left it in the yard. He closed the door and sat in a side chair and watched as Cecile looked helplessly at Adam.

"What's wrong, Cecile? What's happened?" Adam reached out and lightly stroked her cheek.

"They said that I shouldn't marry you-that I had sinned and wasn't worthy of you."

"Who, Cecile? Who said that? Your parents?"

"No, no-not them. The angels."

"The angels?"

"Yes. I had always been happy with them but tonight-they were waiting in my room. I only managed to get away when they were praying for me. I can't go back because they'll take me away and, oh, Adam, I can't bear to leave you. Please. They said I wasn't clean enough for you-I had sin on my soul and I would taint you-that I needed to be cleansed. They told me to go to the river." Cecile looked off and spoke in a low voice, "Drown my world with weeping…if it must be drowned…"

"Cecile," Adam said, "look at me—pay attention. Those words were from the poem—they were in the poem. You must have dreamed them."

Cecile looked at him. " No. It was the angels and they said for me to get in the river and to let the waters wash me but the river, it's so cold and so strong-it would have taken me away, carried me with it. Where did you say it emptied?"

"Pyramid Lake." Adam kept his voice calm hoping to sound reassuring.

"Yes-Pyramid Lake. That's too far away, Adam. You said it was. I could've never come back to you-I would have been lost-new spheres, new lands. Oh, Adam, what am I going to do?"

Adam pulled her into his arms. "You're going to stay here with me. At least tonight."

"Adam, you can't let her…" Ben started to protest.

Adam looked over Cecile's head at his father. "Pa, please. Let me do what I need to do."

"But her parents will be worried. You can't just keep her here."

"I'll take care of it." Adam gently rocked Cecile back and forth on the settee, soothing her, his voice low and calm. "You'll sleep in my bed. You'll be safe-I'll make certain of it. In the morning, the angels in your room, they'll be gone. They'll know that you're pure and good. I'll take care of everything." And she leaned against his chest. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and felt her relax in his arms.

Then he looked up at his astonished father. "Pa, will you make some warm milk for Cecile?"

"Warm milk?"

"Yes, please, if you would."

Ben shook his head but went off to the kitchen. A few seconds later Adam followed him.

"Put a few grains of laudanum in it-I want her to sleep. I'm going to see her parents after she's asleep to tell them she's here."

"Adam, this is…this is trouble, her staying here."

"Please, Pa. Let me handle it."

Ben threw his hands up in frustration. "All right, Adam. I'll let you. I just hope that you know what you're doing." And Ben sat with Adam and Cecile as she drank the milk he had heated; she held the coffee mug with both hands and sipped the warm milk, apparently not noticing the slight bitterness of the laudanum. Adam kneeled at her feet with a basin of water, washing off the dust and dirt with a wet cloth and drying them with a towel. _Angels have no use for shoes._

"C'mon, sweetheart, let's you and me go upstairs. I'll put you to bed." Adam, held Cecile next to him and led her up the stairs to his room. Ben shook his head in disapproval.

Cecile placidly allowed Adam to tuck her in, her eyes following him.

"Now, you go to sleep. Okay, sweetheart?" Adam bent down and kissed her forehead. He reached for the lamp.

"Don't, Adam, please. Don't turn it off. Leave it on."

Adam looked down at her and he caught his breath. _She is the loveliest thing I've ever seen. _Her dark hair spread out behind her on the pillow made the contrast of her pale skin more obvious. Her eyes were bright and he knew from touching her face that she was slightly feverish, overexcited. He stroked her face and she looked up at him trustingly.

"I'll just turn it down. Now you go to sleep-you'll be safe here. I'll sit by the bed and watch over you. Is that all right?"

"Yes. Thank you, Adam."

He smiled and then went to his desk and pulled the chair next to the bed.

"Adam? You believe me, don't you?"

"Yes, I believe you." And Adam watched while Cecile went to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

_The Revelation _

As they sat in the Turpin's parlor, Mr. Turpin listened stoically to Adam. Mrs. Turpin began to weep when Adam mentioned that Cecile had said there were angels in her room.

"It's all right, Edwina. There's that place in Vermont, the Brattleboro Retreat that Dr. Martin told us about in case we needed it. We can send her there."

"Wait," Adam said. "You can't send her away-I want to marry Cecile." Mr. and Mrs. Turpin stared at him.

"You want to marry her?" Mr. Turpin asked.

"Yes. I asked her earlier tonight and she said yes. She wanted to talk to you first. I take it she didn't yet."

"No," Mr. Turpin said, sitting heavily on the sofa. "Cecile was so excited when she came home that we, her mother and I, thought it best that she go to bed, that she rest. She was always prone to excitability. Always. We thought it was just that."

Adam leaned toward Cecile's parents. "I want to marry her and I'll take care of her. Whatever she needs, doctors, rest, whatever, I'll take care of it and pay for it. I love her and I'll help her."

"It's not that simple, Adam," Mr. Turpin said. "I wish it were."

"I know it's not simple but with me, at least she'll be out in the world-not locked away in some…hospital—that Brattleboro Institute. I know Cecile's fragile-I'll protect her."

"Adam, you need to understand about Cecile." And Mr. Turpin began to tell Adam about his daughter while Mrs. Turpin cried softly.

Cecile had always been brilliant-everyone was amazed by her intelligence but she was "excitable." the word her parents chose to use. As a child she talked to people who weren't there but they had put it down to her being lonely as an only child and she was imaginative so these "people" came as no surprise. Cecile had called them "angels" and said that they visited her and helped her. As she became older, she talked less about the "angels" until she stopped talking about them completely. Her parents believed that she had finally outgrown the imaginary "friends."

Since Cecile learned everything so quickly, at eight years, they decided she should learn to play the piano. It was an admired social skill and Cecile was eager to learn once they mentioned it. So she started lessons with Mr. Handy, the piano teacher. Mr. Turpin asked Adam if he remembered Tom Handy. Adam said that he did, a short, pale man with blond hair only a year younger than Adam. He never drank or visited the saloons and Hoss had once remarked that he wondered if Handy even liked girls. But one night, late, as Adam passed Handy's house on his way out of town, he heard Handy playing the piano and Adam stopped to listen. Adam was unfamiliar with the composition but it had a haunting melody and Adam wished he could play so beautifully. And then the music stopped and Adam went on his way but the memory of the notes followed him.

Cecile had great talent and played beautifully. And as a child, she even played a few times in church although she had never played an organ before-but she took to it quickly although she was too small to handle the pedaling so Mr. Handy sat beside her on the bench and worked the pedals while Cecile played the keys. Then, when Cecile was thirteen, one morning she started throwing up, couldn't keep anything down for days and Dr. Martin was called in. It was then that they found out that Cecile was with child. Cecile said that the angels had given her a child; that was what she insisted because she believed it. They sent Cecile to Mr. Turpin's sister in Maryland to have her child.

The Turpins were certain that the father was one of the rowdies from some nearby farm who had pulled Cecile down into the grass one day after school as Cecile walked home and that she had been so traumatized that she couldn't remember the incident. But, Mr. Turpin asked Adam, did he remember when Mr. Handy hanged himself in his parlor? Adam said that he did, that Mrs. Connors and her son who had arrived for lessons found him. No one knew why he had done so.

Turpin said that he knew, he and Dr. Martin and Sheriff Coffee because the sheriff had found the note. In the note Handy had confessed that he loved Cecile and that she loved him-she was young but she loved him

"Handy wrote," Mr. Turpin said," that he had asked for God's forgiveness and for ours-I've never been able to do it. I hope he's burning in hell for what he did to her."

"What about the child?" Adam quietly asked.

"It was born early and died-Cecile was so young, so small-and the child dying, all of it caused Cecile to fall apart. The doctor in Maryland said that Cecile's mind was like a shattered mirror and would never be whole again-she would always be in danger of going back to a state-well going back to her delusions about angels visiting her but more emphatically that she might become worse, lose contact with reality completely. So we sent her to a "retreat" in Germany run by nuns that the doctor recommended. And when they wrote us last year that she was so much better, that Cecile hadn't had an episode in two years, well, we hoped that all would be fine-that she was better. We wanted to give Cecile a chance at a normal life, at happiness which is why we took a chance and let her spend time with you. You seemed to be…well, it was hard after the music teacher but I decided that I trusted you-I always have. But tonight, when Cecile came home, I could see it. We could both see it." He put his arm around his wife's shoulders.

"Maybe there really are angels," Adam said, "and we just don't see them. Maybe Cecile is special-is on a different vibration, sees things beyond us. But no matter what, I can help her. I know I can. I'll read everything I can find about her condition, I'll talk to specialists-please, let me have her as my wife. I promise you that I'll keep her safe and you can see her-we'll be close to you. I can't lose her…don't take her away from me. Please."

Mr. Turpin shook his head. "It can't be, Adam. It doesn't look now as if Cecile will ever be well and what would you do, Adam? Lock her in her room all day while you were gone to keep her safe? Tie her to the bed post every night to keep her from running out while you slept? What if she had a child? Would you trust her alone with it?" Mr. Turpin stood up. "Let me get dressed and I'll follow you to the Ponderosa and bring her home."

No," Adam said. "She's asleep now-I gave her a small dose of laudanum. I'll bring her home in the morning. Let me keep her with me until then-please."

Mr. Turpin glanced at his wife. Then he turned to Adam. "All right. We're trusting you-we'll expect her by ten in the morning if not earlier. Do I have your word?"

Adam stood up and looked at Cecile's parents. "You have my word." Mr. Turpin stood up and the two men shook hands. And Adam rode back to the Ponderosa and in rhythm to his horse's hoof beats, Cecile's name kept repeating in his head.

"It's all right, Cecile,' Adam said as he walked her up the porch steps to her parents' house, his arm around her waist. Mrs. Turpin opened the door having heard the rig. She put her arms out and pulled her daughter to her.

"Oh, my baby, my baby." Mrs. Turpin started to cry again.

"Thank you, Adam," Mr. Turpin said, coming out behind his wife. Mrs. Turpin talked quietly to Cecile and began to guide her into the house.

Cecile turned to look at Adam. "Adam, I'll wait until you come for me."

Adam swallowed the bitter taste in his throat. He dropped his head as Cecile entered the house and was taken away from him. He turned to Mr. Turpin. "I'd like to see her before she goes."

"I don't think that's a good idea. Dr. Martin may have to sedate her-I don't think she'll easily leave you. Knowing Cecile, she'll more than likely talk about you, want to know where you are and if her 'angels' tell her to go to you-well, she'll try to get to you and it'll be problematic at the least. It's best that you don't see her-it will just be fuel for her mania. You need to let her go."

Adam barely nodded. He walked over to the rig and untied his horse from the back. He mounted his horse and started to leave but glanced up to Cecile's room and saw her standing at the window, her palms pressed against the glass, her eyes wide, questioning him. Adam thought that her ethereal beauty made him believe anew in angels and Adam wondered if Cecile couldn't possibly be an angel become flesh, caught in the madness of this world and unable to get back to her heavenly state.

"And palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss," Adam murmured. Cecile's words echoed in his head. He wondered why he hadn't looked at Cecile's palm as she had his, looked to see her life line-but then he remembered that she had said that it couldn't reveal if a life was happy, just long. And Adam so wanted Cecile to be happy.

"Oh, Cecile," he whispered. And as he watched, someone came up behind her and gently pulled Cecile away from the window and that was the last Adam saw of her-the last memory he had of her.

"Goodbye, my love," Adam said. And he turned his horse toward the Ponderosa. But many nights for the rest of his long life, Cecile would appear in Adam's dreams, happy and laughing and he liked to think that it was Cecile letting him know that she still loved him and would always love him and Adam felt that she protected him. She was his angel and he felt fortunate to have known her and to have won her love.

~ Finis ~


End file.
